Poly at the Poly Pt. 05

"You guys had quite the party last night, huh?"

I was lying on the scratchy, carpeted floor of... actually, I wasn't sure. I blinked my eyes, trying to force rational thought to restart in my brain.

Jack and Cassie's bungalow. Fuck. I was still in the bungalow. And on the ground. Totally naked. I'd been dead asleep, apparently, till I'd felt someone nudging my ribs with their foot. My body ached like they'd been kicking at me for hours.

I rolled over, doing my best to stare through the burning brightness of the light streaming in from the large windows. Fucking sun. What did I ever do to you?

"I don't suppose you've seen my dad," the voice said. It was deep and vaguely familiar.

I squinted up at the speaker standing over me. I didn't recognize him. He was a young man (probably early 20s), handsome, with light brown hair. He was wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans. For a moment, I thought he was a cast member, here to finally take me away for my crimes against Disney decency.

Then he gave me a slight smirk and I realized exactly who I was looking at.

"You're Jack's son," I said. I slowly sat up. The whole house seemed to spin with me. Maybe I hadn't been as sober as I thought the night before.

"I'm Grayson," he said, "Gray." He started to reach down to shake my hand, but thought better of it. I didn't blame him.

"My brother and sister are both waiting outside," Gray said, "We're supposed to be meeting Dad for breakfast."

"Sorry," I said, "For all this."

"I'm used to it," Gray said, then sighed. His shoulders slumped.

The reality of where I was, of what I'd been doing, raced over me. We were on a couples' trip to Disney World. It had turned into so much more. This strange, sexually charged adventure filled with flirting and fun. And now fucking, too.

The previous night, the six of us had come back from EPCOT, stumbling and sloppy drunk. We'd coupled off, but not as couples. Me with Allison. Allison's husband, Mike, with Cassie. My own wife with...

Hurriedly, I glanced around the room. I saw Mike was passed out on the couch, wrapped around a blonde that I assumed was Cassie. I didn't see Emily anywhere. Or Jack.

I leapt to my feet. I don't know why the idea of it bothered me so much. We'd already had sex with other people. Emily had already been with Jack, cumming like crazy while he plowed her over the couch. Why did it suddenly fill me with horror, the idea that she might be with him once again?

But thinking clearly was clearly beyond me. I scrambled (naked) down the hallway, towards the bedrooms. I heard little giggles. Sounds of whispered conversation. I threw open the door, but the bed was empty. Perfectly untouched. Mocking me.

I spun around, and like a crazy person, I whipped open the other bedroom door. Sure enough, Jack was there, lying over a prone woman and kissing her, passionately. He startled when I appeared in the entryway. I must have looked like a madman. Eyes wide. Dick dangling.

Jack rolled over and revealed a completely naked, beautiful blonde. Cassie. He was in bed with his wife. Of course he was. Which meant that Mike was back in the living room with Allison. I'd let my imagination, my envy, take hold of my rational mind.

The couple in the bedroom both looked at me with a mix of pity and concern. I braced myself for the inevitable berating. For Jack to tease me about my jealous heart. For Cassie to complain about her lost privacy.

But Jack only gave me a casual wave hello. And Cassie just smiled at me, warmly. Like seeing a friend that she legitimately cared about.

"I think Em's in the shower," she told me. As if my question was painted on my face. Which, honestly, it probably was.

"Thanks," I said. My heart was still pounding, but now for no reason. I felt myself relax. I hadn't even noticed how worked up I was until then. Now, finally, I realized where I was. What I was doing. Standing naked in a stranger's home. Splayed across the open door of their bedroom.

I turned to walk away, but stopped. I covered myself with my hands (like that mattered) and poked my head back into Jack and Cassie's room.

"Your, um, son is here," I said to Jack.

The silver-haired man's eyes popped wide.

"Oh fuck!" he said. He jumped out of bed. Usually so cool and collected, it was strange to see Jack frantically pulling on his pants. Like seeing John Wayne in a screwball comedy.

"Thanks," Jack told me. He raced past me to the living room.

Cassie grinned at me again.

"You OK?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "OK, not really."

"It's natural," Cassie said, "To feel, well, feelings after last night. Normal. I'd be worried if you didn't."

I nodded my acknowledgement. Muscles that I didn't even realize I'd tightened now slowly untwined.

"I know Em's feeling the same way," Cassie continued, "Go take care of her. I promise it will all be alright."

How could that be true? I thought about what we'd both done the night before. The way Emily had seemed so possessed, in complete subservience to another man. Not that I'd behaved much better with Allison. Letting the athletic woman take me so completely.

Playing around before, in comparison, had been playing it safe. We'd set the line at intercourse because we knew it would rip us to pieces. Then we went ahead and did it anyway. My wife had fucked another man in front of me. I'd cum in another woman while she watched.

I found it hard to believe we were coming back from that.

Cassie got out of bed and wrapped her arms around me. Both of us were totally naked, yet it didn't feel arousing at all. Just nice.

"I promise that Emily loves you, desperately," Cassie said, "What happened last night doesn't change that one bit. In fact, it can make your bond stronger if you let it. You'll see."

I nodded, not sure I understood what she meant. Cassie gave me a slight push on the shoulders.

"Go on," she said, "Get her."

I stumbled back, then spun around and headed to the bathroom. I opened the door and stepped inside. My ears filled with the hiss of hot water. I saw Emily, finally, standing naked behind the glass door of the shower. Soaking wet, head lolled back, eyes shut.

She looked so beautiful. That cute, almost elfin face. Thin lips and adorable nose. Her pointed, near-perfect, tiny tits and pink, puffy nipples. Those skinny legs, topped by that little, perky butt. The thick, dark hair above her soft, incredible pussy.

I didn't stop. The urge overtook me. I swung open the door and before my wife could even take in what was happening, I tackled her.

Emily gasped, surprised. She grabbed my face and kissed me, hard. Needful and hungry. I didn't think. Didn't decide. I grabbed her hips and lifted her up against the shower wall. I was achingly hard. I didn't even know when that had happened.

I cupped my hands under her butt cheeks. Emily spread her legs, drawing me in.

"Sore," she gasped out.

But I was already buried. I thrust forward, forcing my cock inside. Neither of us really ready for sex; both of us unable to stop ourselves. The want overcoming everything else.

I humped my wife against the tile. She kissed my lips, my cheeks. Both of us hanging on to each other. I felt my orgasm rise and I didn't slow. Just kept railing my wife into the wall.

I erupted and Emily let out a sharp gasp. A little cry. Then a sob as our shared orgasm wrapped around us. Warm and loving. Familiar and comforting. The steady heat of love that keeps you alive in an icy, uncaring world.

Our energy dissipated. We both fell to the shower floor. Still holding on. We sat under the hot water, gasping for air. Searching for solidity.

I felt Emily's arms loosen. She rested her hands on my shoulders and stared back at me with a cold conviction. Her face so very serious that it scared me.

"I didn't do anything wrong last night," Emily said.

"I know," I said.

"You were doing the same thing," she said.

"I did."

Emily took a deep breath. Her face softened. I don't know if she'd been expecting an argument, or what. Slowly, she let her body go soft. We stared at each other for a bit, like building up the courage to take the same leap. In the end, it was Emily who went first.

"With Allison, was it...?"

"It was OK, I guess" I said, "Jack?"

"Not terrible."

We both laughed, ruefully. Emily kissed me, deep.

"Watching Allison, with you, it got me so..."

I waited for the word. Angry. Jealous. Upset.

"... Turned on. It was painful, too. But watching you take her like that -- I was also kind of proud. Is that weird?"

"No," I said, "Not weird."

"With Jack, it was, I dunno. Scary. Kind of amazing, but."

"I liked it," I said, "Seeing you like that. So open and undaunted."

Emily smiled sheepishly, then stared down at the tile. She bit her lip. I could see she was watching it roll through her mind again. Like a dream she couldn't shake. Her eyes flashed. Her tongue teased at her lips. Her fingers trembled. A mix of exultation and regret washed over her. It was almost as dramatic as seeing the act, itself, the night before.

We both stayed there, sitting quietly, like we were out on our porch, sipping lemonade on a warm summer day. Reality settled back in, and I looked around, like seeing everything for the first time.

The bathroom was expansive and tiled throughout in a bright, ocean blue. There were double sinks on the far wall and, near the back, there was a deep, white tub. The shower we were sitting in was a large, glass-walled stall. It felt like our own little world in there.

I turned to look at my wife, taking her in. The sweet scent of her hair. The familiar curves of her tiny body. After everything that had happened, these little details that had felt so banal seemed wonderful and new.

"Sooo..." Emily said. I could already hear what she was asking.

"I don't want to hurt our marriage," I said.

"We're not," Emily said, "We won't. This is just fun. For now."

I nodded.

"Do you want to stop?" Emily asked.

I thought about the night before. It wasn't only being with Allison. That had been incredible, yes. But watching Emily, seeing her abandon herself, had also been this incredible revelation. Even that morning, our desperate coupling. This warm affection we were sharing in the shower. It all felt so exciting. Unanticipated and unpredictable -- unlike our lives back home. I couldn't let go of it. Not yet.

"No," I said, "I don't want to stop."

Emily kissed me, hard. Hugged me so tight I could barely breathe.

"I love you so much," she said, "No matter what."

*

We found Allison and Mike both waiting for us in the living room, fully dressed in their clothes from the day before. They handed us our own stuff, smiling shyly.

"We need to go back to our room and get changed," Allison said.

The tall, athletic woman met my eye and for a second, a little spark of happiness raced through her eyes. Like she'd flicked a switch, the highlights of our coupling the night before started speeding by me.

Allison's sharp, brash smirk. Her muscular thighs clutched around my waist. Her long fingers gripping at my chest hair. The taste of her vagina, so strong and sexy; just like Allison, herself. The way her little breasts and oh-so-sharp nipples felt in my palms. The sounds she made as her orgasm overtook her. My cock buried deep in the fluttering grasp of her pussy.

I could tell that Allison was reliving it all, too. Both of us, trapped in our memories, staring at each other in the middle of the living room. Bathed in the unflinching heat of the Florida sunlight.

"We're already running behind," Mike said, breaking us out of our shared reverie.

Allison startled. She nervously tucked her poker-straight, strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. It was strange to see it all undone and hanging loose. In some ways, it felt more intimate than if she had one of her tits hanging out.

Emily and I got dressed right there in the living room. More than anything else that morning, it was a reminder of how far we'd come in a few days. Not that long ago, we'd been sitting in a hot tub, afraid to show the littlest bit of skin. Now we were casually naked in the living room, like this was just another morning.

Cassie, now dressed in a fresh blouse and jean shorts, hurried over from the kitchen. I'd seen her completely naked that morning, hugged her. Yet I'd been so focused on Emily that I hadn't processed it.

Now that we were fully clothed, however, I was knocked over once again by how natural Cassie's beauty was. Her flawless body and striking face. She was waking up, hadn't done her make up or hair, yet still she looked better than most women after they spent hours primping themselves. People who looked like Cassie weren't supposed to spend time with people like us. People who looked like Cassie weren't supposed to exist.

The beautiful blonde woman gave each of us a quick kiss on the cheek. Like a mom sending us all off to school. When she got to Mike -- standing at the end of the line like we were in a strange, post-orgy, wedding procession -- Cassie grabbed his hands and pressed her mouth to his.

"I'll catch up with you at breakfast," she told him, a silly grin playing on her face. Like Allison and I a moment before, I could tell the two of them were reviewing their own, vivid remembrance of what they'd shared the night before.

We hurried back through the resort to our room. It was early enough that the paths were mostly empty. Sometime in the night, sprinklers must have run, because the flora around us was all dripping wet and noticeably verdant.

A few people passed us headed in the other direction, carrying trays of breakfast back to their rooms or heading out to the parks. I got the sense that all of them were staring at us. As if they knew exactly what we'd been up to.

Our room was waiting for us like a disapproving parent. I couldn't think of the last time we'd been in there, let alone slept. Emily and I both dug fresh clothes out of our suitcase and got dressed (shorts and t-shirts for both of us).

Unlike us, Mike and Allison hadn't had a chance to shower, so they each took a bathroom before getting dressed, themselves. Finally, we all regrouped and hurried back out to the resort.

As soon as we left our building, Allison grabbed my arm, pulling me back. Our spouses kept walking forward, talking amiably about the day we had planned. Like last night hadn't happened at all. Or worse, very much like it had. A new kind of intimacy that made us all more than friends.

"We should talk," Allison said, "Before we regroup with everyone. Well, I should talk, anyway." She gave me a knowing look. I shrugged in response.

The tall, athletic woman was wearing her usual tank top (purple that day) and dark mesh shorts. Her hair was back in its usual tight, tied back state. Now that Allison was fully dressed, I couldn't stop picturing her naked. Her small, round tits, trim tummy, and perfect, pink pussy.

She was my wife's best friend -- I wasn't supposed to know how she looked undressed. How it felt to be buried inside her. The faces and sounds she made when she came. The wrong of it was undeniable, but my desire for more was equally inescapable.

Allison must have caught the look on my face because she cocked her eyebrow at me and shook her head. But she couldn't hide the little grin on her face.

"Last night was..." Allison started, then stopped.

"A mistake," I said.

"Yes," Allison said.

"Amazing," I said.

"Also yes," Allison said. She barked out a laugh, a good one. Full and happy. "You and Emily are OK?"

"We talked," I said.

Actually, we'd fucked like depraved animals in the shower, then talked. But I didn't think Allison wanted to hear that. To be honest, I'd assumed that Allison and Mike had a similar conversation that morning. But now I wasn't so sure.

"You and Mike?" I asked.

Allison sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine enough."

"And us?" I asked.

Allison ran her eyes up my body. I realized that she, too, couldn't stop picturing me naked. What was the point in even getting dressed at this point?

"Oh yeah, we're good," Allison said. Her face filled with that lovely, competitive smirk.

The athletic blonde leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the lips. She grabbed my hand, and we raced off to catch up to our respective spouses.

*

"And I'm saying I won," Allison said, "Clearly."

"Sex isn't a competition," Cassie said, "It doesn't work that way."

"Spoken like someone who knows she lost," Allison said.

The five of us -- Allison, Cassie, Mike, Emily, and I -- were all sitting at a table in the outdoor cafe nestled between the lobby and the pool. We sipped our coffees (iced, of course) and munched hungrily at fridge-burned danishes.

After Allison and I had caught up with Mike and Emily on the path to the pool, the four of us found Cassie waiting in the lobby. She explained that Jack was off with his kids for the day, so, it would just be the five of us. Don't think I missed the look of disappointment on Emily's face when the beautiful blonde told us.

"I think he's trying to make up for this morning," Cassie told us.

She didn't need explain any more. I tried to imagine coming home and finding my father, post-orgy. A bunch of fat, naked old dudes lying around our living room. The floor, no doubt, covered in the remains of smoked fish and cured, salted meats. It was the only way I could picture it, honestly.

We were all starved (I can't imagine why), so the five of us grabbed breakfast, then found a quiet spot to sit outside at one of the little tables under an umbrella. It was peaceful -- the pool was yet to open -- and so everything had a lovely hush. The wind whispered lushly through the leaves.

I expected it might be awkward, considering everything that had happened. Instead, as soon as we sat, Allison announced to the group that she was, clearly, the 'winner' of the previous evening's event. As if she was talking about a foot race or a fantasy league.

And just like that, there we were, bantering about who got boffed the best the night before. Fortunately, the rest of the seating area was empty. I couldn't imagine what would happen if another family happened to walk by.

"You didn't win," Cassie repeated, "There's no 'winning' in sex. Not if you do it right, anyway."

Allison shook her head in disdain. "Wow, and you were a cheerleader? You must have been terrible."

Despite the harshness of their words, both women were grinning at each other while they argued. It was playful, almost flirty, honestly. Both Allison and Cassie seemed more than satisfied by the previous evening's activities. So, it was natural, perhaps, to want to brag a bit. The fact that it had happened with men they weren't married to only increased the urge to boast, I think.

"Of course I won," Allison said, "We won. I mean, Paul came three times." Allison reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "None of the other guys went more than once."

"I went twice," Mike said. He'd started to raise his hand, but stopped himself. "It was before. When Cassie was, um, sucking me."

"They don't need to know the details, sweetie," Cassie said, rubbing Mike's back affectionately.

I looked around the seating area to be sure we were truly alone. I knew I was being silly, acting so paranoid. But it really felt like the Mickey police were going to come drag us away at any second. Engaging in extramarital orgies was bad enough. Doing them in Disney (and debriefing each other afterward in public) was asking for disaster.

"Three times," Allison repeated, holding up her fingers. "Three." She spread the word out to multiple syllables, smiling broadly. Though my lack of staying power might have been embarrassing to me, apparently it was quite the accomplishment to the athletic woman who'd done it to me.